can't help falling in love (with you)
by pearypie
Summary: "Please." His voice was strained with the weight of undeniable emotion. "Don't thank me. My reasons for saving you were entirely selfish." / Priest Seto and Kisara after he rescues her from the crowd. Shameless fluff.


_She is beautiful._

That is the first coherent thought that passes through the mind of the great Priest Seto. Even like this—bruised, battered, dressed in rough-spun cloth… _she is beautiful._ Her skin is creamy pale and her silvery hair fans out like the moon behind her; lying in his bed, injured but breathing— _still here_ , he thinks selfishly. _Still alive_.

* * *

 _Kind and gentle and considerate._ She trembled in his arms after he rescued her from that unforgiving crowd and gave a soft gasp of surprise when he carried her onto his horse. The phalanx of guards and captains rode a few feet behind him, fearing the priest's wrath.

"Please sire," she murmured softly, "it's no burden for me to walk."

Her cheek pressed against his chest and her cool, soft hair brushed against his bare skin. She felt like a cloud in his arms, so soft and fragile as she tried her best to keep blood from smearing on his robes.

He tore off his cape and wrapped it around her, wanting an excuse to hold this moonlit beauty close as they rode back to the palace.

"Are you alright?" He whispered, his voice gentle—uncommonly gentle—as one arm wrapped around her waist, tucking her closer to his chest. It that moment, Priest Seto couldn't give a damn about what the others must have thought. Once they returned to his private villa, he would have Isis look at her and then bring in his own court physician to tend to her open wounds. He would dress her in silks and finery because she didn't belong in such a crude sack. She didn't belong in the Egyptian desert.

She belonged in the water gardens, surrounded by cool, temperate waves with pale lotus blossoms floating around her.

Seto's cheek was pressed against the top of her head. He breathed in and smelled flowers—cherry blossoms, and the cool freshness of an open meadow in the south of Gaul. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling warmth bloom in his chest as she snuggled closer, one hand coming up to press against the gold ankh emblazoned across his chest.

"What does this mean?" She looked up at him, silvery bangs slipping aside so Seto could see eyes of the purest sapphire—as blue as the Nile and twice as deep.

He felt a strange sort of irony as he whispered the answer to her. " _Life._ "

She smiled, a sweet, soft smile more refreshing than the spring rain before her eyes began to close.

Panic seized Seto. "Please," his voice was tinged with a strange sort of desperation, "you must stay awake. We'll be there in just a few moments."

"Where?"

"The palace—or rather, my villa." Seto explained. "There's—do you like flowers?" The question—mundane and simple—made him cringe with embarrassment. It was such a common thing to ask—he probably sounded like a fool for even verbalizing it out loud.

But rather than derision, the strange girl in his arms smiled again and Seto found himself willing to look three times the fool if only she would keep that smile on her lips.

"I do." Her fingertips began to trace the golden ankh. "Lotus blossoms—pale pink and white. They're so lovely and idyllic, floating on the crystalline waters."

He smiled. "You did not tell me you were a poet."

"Oh no." She blushed, a pale dusting of rose pink staining her pale cheeks. "I…I cherish those sights, sire. I memorize and collect them like stars."

"Stars? How can one possibly collect a star?"

Her forefinger paused, stopping at the right edge of his ankh symbol. "I suppose…one would only need to look up and see. The stars do the rest—bringing life and hope to everyone who shares the same sky." She dared to look up at him, not at all afraid but with a slight hesitation that Seto wanted gone forever. She should never hesitate around him—gods, he would give her all the world if she'd only ask. "I remember the constellations from the night you saved me, Priest Seto."

She whispered this so quietly, with such meekness that he dared not believe his ears.

 _She remembers._

There were a thousand things he could've said—a million and one questions that somehow got stuck in his throat. Instead, he only held her closer, breathing in more of her clean, fresh scent.

"Thank you once again."

"Please." His voice was strained with the weight of undeniable emotion. "Don't thank me. My reasons for saving you were entirely selfish."

"Selfish?" She looked up at him, sapphire eyes wide with surprise. "How could such an act be considered selfish? I owe you my life."

 _And what a life you've had._ He berated himself. _I should've found you the moment I donned these robes—scoured the whole of Egypt until I had you in my arms again. Dress you in silk and chiffon and have you with me always._

The weight of guilt was a tremendous burden and Seto struggled to form a coherent sentence. He glanced down at her and felt his heart swell with something he couldn't quite name—an association of roses and moonlight and _love._

"I…" he could see the palace gates looming overhead. He exhaled, daring himself one final moment of indulgence. "I rescued you because… _you are a part of me._ "

 _The best part of me._ He wanted to add but found that his indomitable courage had failed him. How was it possible that one fragile, slip of a girl could make him feel this way?

Yet all other thoughts were obliterated when he felt her hand touch his face, her fingers caressing his skin as she smiled at him, expression so serene that Seto forgot the whole of Egypt—forgot that they were only a few meters from the palace and that an army of palace guards were staring questioningly behind them.

In her eyes—and in her smile—he had, at long last, found contentment.

* * *

Looking at her now, Seto couldn't help but think that he would give her a garden full of lotus blossoms, make it so that the air was soaked with their fragrance and that she would never again have to cherish the mere memory of a flower. No, he wanted her mind to be filled with images of happiness—of something beyond the daily torment of her past life.

He had found her, after all these years, and he would not let her go again. He would collect her smiles like stars and hope that one day, he might be able to tell her just how much he loves her.

* * *

 **A/N: Very quick Priest Seto/Kisara one shot because I'm in love with these two. Reviews appreciated :)**


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